


looks just like you

by Poe



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Cosmic Cube, Endgame Salt, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, More a Pre-Fix-It, Not quite a fix-it, Open to be adopted for a larger fic, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 10:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe
Summary: Steve is sitting on his bed, bird-boned and small again, but not fragile, never fragile. And Bucky stares at him, at the way he glows, literally glows, and the blue-hot heat of his eyes that are otherworldly, wrong, fierce and like he imagines looking at vertigo must feel.This is not his Steve, this is not Steve at all, it is more, it is less, it is a messenger, and the universe is yawning and angry."Time is collapsing", says the thing that is not Steve, without speaking at all. "What is Steve Rogers is not the Steve Rogers that should belong here."





	looks just like you

Steve is sitting on his bed, bird-boned and small again, but not fragile, never fragile. And Bucky stares at him, at the way he glows, literally glows, and the blue-hot heat of his eyes that are otherworldly, wrong, fierce and like he imagines looking at vertigo must feel. 

This is not his Steve, this is not Steve at all, it is more, it is less, it is a messenger, and the universe is yawning and angry.

_Time is collapsing_, says the thing that is not Steve, without speaking at all. _What is Steve Rogers is not the Steve Rogers that should belong here_. 

And Bucky knows, because his bones ache with that same knowledge. Steve, old, wrinkled, rested, a life spent on the sidelines in suburban mundanity, not lifting a finger as Hydra wormed its way into the foundations of SHIELD, letting Bucky scream for seventy years and then pull himself out, broken but hopeful, because Steve was here, and Steve _was _here, until he wasn’t, and ain’t that a thing. Steve gave it all up, gave him up, to be a spectator, because it’s easier to chase nostalgia than to face the reality that they could have had a future, finally, not perfect, but theirs.

Steve never ran from a fight in his life. Until he did.

Bucky doesn’t know if he could ever forgive him, but looking at the not-Steve thing sitting on his bed, he knows he still loves him. 

_Bring him back_, the not-Steve thing says, _make things right_.

_I don’t know how_, Bucky wants to say, and the not-Steve thing seems to read his mind, because it quirks its head in such a Steve-like way that Bucky nearly forgets.

_Figure it out_, not-Steve says, _or the universe will have bigger problems than your broken heart_.

The not-Steve thing looks at him, intense, blue, cosmic, and nods like it knows exactly what to do but is refusing to tell Bucky. Which, dammit, Steve.

“This ain’t exactly a back alley brawl in Brooklyn,” Bucky says, surprising himself. “Can’t just drag him outta there.”

_You’ll figure it out_, the not-Steve thing says. _You always were the brains of the operation_. 

“Well, these days, these brains are scrambled,” Bucky points out.

The not-Steve thing smirks, playful, powerful, all-knowing? Perhaps.

_Tick tock, Bucky Barnes, tick tock_, the not-Steve thing says, echoing, repeating, time filling Bucky’s head like a river before rushing free again. _Tick tock_.

And Bucky knows what he has to do. And dammit, it’s not going to be easy. And he’s going to need to ask a lot of favours. And possibly not step on any butterflies.

But the not-Steve thing seems to understand. It nods again. 

_He loved you the most_, it says.

“Past tense?” Bucky asks. 

_No such thing_, it promises, and leans forward, kissing Bucky on the lips, barely there, not really there, the past, the present, the future buzzing on his skin.

And then it’s gone, and Bucky blinks, blinking the blue light from his eyelids. 

So. Time travel then. 

Time to save the universe. Good thing Bucky has nothing better to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I have been gone a while because I wrote an actual real life book (it's called How To Be Autistic and you can buy it if you want or if you don't want I don't know live your best life) and also Depression Is A Thing (I contain multitudes). Anyway, this is a short little thing about what-if-the-universe-was-collapsing-and-the-cosmic-cube-became-Steve-to-send-Bucky-a-message. Huh.
> 
> This story is open to be adopted, lengthened, expanded upon, twisted, eaten, shoved up unholy places, whatever you fancy, just let me know, because I'd love to read it.
> 
> You can find me at jbbarnes.tumblr.com and yeah. I hope you liked this spoonful of Endgame salt.


End file.
